


how the boy next door turned out

by eleanor_lavish



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-17 21:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleanor_lavish/pseuds/eleanor_lavish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Thirteen strangers, picked to live in a house... Adam has a PR problem, Kris has a secret, and the kids are all alright.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	how the boy next door turned out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [summerstorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerstorm/gifts).



> For the 2009 AI Holiday Bash fic exchange. Lix wanted mansion fic, and BFFness, and this (I hope!) fulfills both of those. Thanks to my ever-enthusiastic beta. Title from Morrissey's "The World is Full of Crashing Bores".

Kris isn't sure about Adam the first time they meet. Hollywood is already almost too much, and Kris clicks quickly with people like Matt and Anoop - guys with the same looks of "what the hell am I doing here?" on their faces. Adam walks into the room wearing tight black jeans, a blue scarf and a huge grin. "I am so fucking ready to _do_ this," he whispers to Kris as the producers go through the schedule for the next week. Kris isn't so sure he's ready at all, but when Adam jostles his arm with a freckly elbow, Kris can't hep but grin back.

  


It's never a secret. Adam isn't walking around in some t-shirt with "I <3 DICK" written on it in sparkly letters, but he _does_ walk around in eyeliner and studded belts and wears foundation and says things like "oh, honey, that arrangement is _killer_ " while clapping his hands, so. Kris kind of admires Adam's ability to walk the line between not hiding and never admitting, and wonders if there is a class for that in LA somewhere. Kris finds himself gravitating into Adam's orbit those first few weeks, taking his cues from Adam on when to let things roll off his back, or when to push to get a song he wants. They're all pretty much babes in the woods here, and Adam becomes their de facto leader. Kris still doesn't talk to him that much - Adam has his own circle in those early days, Lil and Allison and Alexis, and they giggle and gossip and sit in each others' laps.

"How come the gay guys always get the hot chicks?" Anoop asks Kris one morning, standing by the craft services table as Megan pulls her hair back to show Adam part of her tattoo. Kris looks up, wary; Anoop is shaking his head, but he's smiling too, and Kris just shrugs.

"There's something to be said for getting in touch with your feminine side," he deadpans, and Anoop snorts.

Katy comes to the set to visit sometimes, and she and Adam get on like a house on fire. Maybe that's the reason he finally relaxes around Adam enough to laugh at his ridiculous innuendo, or stand close to him backstage while they wait for their call, exchanging nervous smiles. Katy's always had the best intuition about people.

  


He knows Adam watches him. He's not an idiot, and Adam's never going to be accused of subtlety, and he knows when he's caught Adam looking a little closely, a little too long, by the way Adam cuts his eyes away, the way he laughs a little too loudly at a joke. It's nice, actually. Flattering.

Adam starts giving him friendly advice on fashion choices and Kris takes it, even though it seems some days like Adam and Katy and the whole wardrobe department are more interested in him showing off his ass than his music. It's been a long time since Kris has dressed to impress anyone, and he forgot how nice it feels, sometimes, to have someone look at him like Adam and Katy do when he comes out of the room in jeans that feel just this side of too tight.

"Yes, oh my _Gosh_ ," Katy says. Adam tilts his head to one side and then reaches out and deftly undoes the top two buttons of Kris's shirt.

" _Thaaaat's_ perfect," he nods and Kris almost blushes, but then Adam and his wife are actually _high-fiving_. He rolls his eyes instead.

"You're both so _superficial_ ," he says, sighing heavily in faux disappointment.

  


Kris makes the Top Thirteen, and Matt gives him their hotel room for the night when Katy shows up with champagne.

"You like him?" she asks later, curled up under his chin on the crisp white sheets. He fingers spiderwalk across his bicep and Kris's heartbeat still hasn't slowed down. "It's okay if you do," she adds quietly, and Kris slides his hand up and over her side, tangles his fingers in her honey-blond hair and leans down to kiss her jaw, her neck.

"He's pretty awesome," he mumbles against her skin, and grins when she laughs underneath him.

"Okay, okay," she says and pushes at his shoulder. But Kris can't stop this once he starts, not with Katy, and he trails his mouth over her breast, soft skin shivering under his fingers.

  


"I get the one by the bathroom!" Adam calls as they roll their suitcases into their new bedroom.

"I am not going to get between you and the bathroom, man," Kris laughs and Adam wags his eyebrows at him.

"Don't worry, I will totally leave you some counter space," he says and Kris shakes his head.

"Liar."

The mansion is huge, bedrooms upstairs and some practice rooms in the basement, with an indoor pool and a pristine living room and a kitchen that would make his momma weep with joy. They follow along on the tour, nodding as they're shown rooms that are for the production crew, shaking hands with the house staff. The first night is hilarious - they all somehow migrate to the back patio to chat and snack on whatever Danny's been able to sweet-talk out of the kitchens. Kris folds himself into a deck chair and sips on a Corona. It's an odd group, the thirteen of them plus Scott's brother and Allison and Jasmine's moms, and a few crew guys. Adam and Lil are on the other side of the pool, heads tilted together in some vague effort at privacy. Allison is sprawled on the ground at their feet, her head on Adam's knee. Kris watches him pet her hair, watches the easy smile he gives Lil as she talks. It's kind of comforting; they're all supposed to be in competition, now more than ever, but somehow this is more like summer camp.

"Pretty crazy, huh?" Danny says, flopping in the chair next to him.

"Amen to that," Kris smiles, tilting his bottle in Danny's direction. Danny laughs, a warm bray that Kris has come to actually enjoy.

  


The next morning Kris wakes up disoriented, the sun streaming through the sheer curtains of his new bedroom. The door to the bathroom is closed, and Kris doesn't think much of it until he hears Adam's voice on the other side, angry and low. There's a loud thump like Adam just kicked the doorjam. Kris gets up and knocks softly.

"You okay?" he asks through the door.

There's a moment of silence before Adam replies. "Yeah, it's. I'm okay. Can you give me a few minutes?"

Kris isn't sure what's going on, but Adam's words sound strained, hoarse. He still doesn't know Adam that well, not enough to be able to know if this is a fight he should be getting in the middle of. The bathroom is the place Kris always goes when he has to argue with Katy on the phone, and Kris wonders if the person on the other end of the line is Adam's boyfriend. Kris has seen him around a few times - a small, wiry guy with a penchant for scruff and a wide smile. The contest is stressful on everyone, and Kris just grabs his acoustic and heads downstairs to give Adam some privacy.

The whole house is eerily quiet. He doesn't see anyone at all until he's halfway through his bowl of cereal, leaning on the kitchen counter.

"Kris?" one of the producers finds him there and approaches with a cautious smile. "Do you know if Adam is awake?"

"Yeah, he was up when I came down here," Kris says, curious. "Why?"

"We're calling a house meeting for later today," she says cryptically. "We'd appreciate it if you didn't take or receive any calls until then. We'll try to make it as quick as possible."

"Um, sure?" Kris replies, and she disappears upstairs toward Kris and Adam's room, already talking in hushed tones on her blackberry.

He finally finds Matt and Anoop in one of the practice rooms. "Have you heard about this house meeting?" he asks, because the whole thing is just weird.

"Yeah, man, _shit_ ," Matt says, eyes wide. "Do you know what he's going to do about them?"

"Do about..." Kris is thoroughly lost here.

"Dude, you don't know?" Anoop asks, and he pulling out his cell phone. "There are pictures online of Adam," he says, his face pinched as he hands Kris the phone.

Kris almost doesn't want to look. He expects them to be raunchy, he expects to see serious _nudity_ , but all he gets are pictures of Adam covered in glitter and body paint, Adam in tight leather outfits and fishnets, Adam kissing a boy (the same boy, over and over, and Kris thinks this must be The Ex, the one Adam talks about when he's had a few drinks and feels maudlin and romantic).

"Who the hell would do that?" Matt asks, and he's visibly upset. Kris feels his pulse speed up, a burst of righteous indignation, before Matt continues, "I mean, those were so clearly _private_ , right? What kind of friend would leak those to the press?"

"This can't help his chances," Anoop says darkly.

Kris scrolls back through them again, looks at the poses, the way Adam's eyes glitter, always aware of the camera on him. "I don't know. They're just pictures from a party. I bet there are probably some pictures all of us hope never see the light of day."

"It's not the same thing," Anoop replies, and Kris knows it's true, even if he desperately doesn't want it to be.

  


Adam is surprisingly cool about the whole thing. He doesn't make an real statements other than to confirm they are real, and that he's not ashamed of them. Kris sticks close for the first few days, wanting to be there if Adam needs someone to talk to, to lean on. He's not sure why he does it - he and Adam aren't that close, not really, but Kris suddenly _wants_ them to be, wants to make sure Adam's not having to deal with this shit on his own.

"You're staring at me again," Adam grins at him over a plate of chicken and dumplings.

"I am not," Kris scoffs. "Eat your comfort food and shut up."

"If this were real comfort food there would be chocolate in it. And also rum," Adam says.

"Yeah, well, then you'd never be able to sing, and I would win. So maybe I should make that happen," Kris says thoughtfully.

"You wish, country mouse," Adam kids, and Kris blinks at him.

"You know there is actual civilization in Arkansas, right?"

"Not like LA," Adam sighs, a little wistful.

"Oh, honey, _nothing_ is like LA," Lil says, taking the seat next to Adam and winking at him. "What are we talking about?"

"Kris is trying convince me Conway is a metropolitan paradise. I hear they're getting those fancy indoor toilets soon!" Adam stage whispers to her.

"Man, come on," Kris laughs. "We have all the same stuff as you have out here. Even some good gay bars, seriously." There is a moment of total silence as Adam and Lil both stare at him. "What, like I'm not allowed to know about gay bars?" he bristles and Adam starts laughing so hard he has to rest his head on the table.

  


Mike isn't blunt on purpose - he just genuinely doesn't know when something might be inappropriate. Adam knows this too, which is why neither of them call him on it when he makes a remark about "people like Adam" back in Texas. ("I would have," Adam tells Kris later, "but he actually looked impressed by my epic-gayness, or whatever. So, I don't even know.")

They all laugh about it, to Mike's face as much as behind his back, and Kris would feel bad if he thought Mike cared at all. But Mike will still be the go-to guy to hold Adam's jacket when he sees something in wardrobe that he absolutely needs to try on, and he'll just frown in confusion if people give him strange, speculative looks.

Kris doesn't get Mike Sarver at all, but he's pretty sure Mike doesn't get Mike either. So it's a draw.

  


"Man, it would be so much better for him if he would just tone it down a little," Danny says under his breath as he and Kris sit in the audience and watch Adam practice "Ring of Fire". He sounds partly sympathetic, partly sanctimonious, and Kris has to pretend he has a question for the wardrobe girls so he can move seats. Adam's asking again if it's really not okay to use real pyro for the performance, and Kris tries to focus on Adam's blatant enthusiasm, the way this song is going to be an epic "fuck you" to the last few weeks. When he looks over his shoulder, Danny is shaking his head sadly. Kris digs his fingernails into the velvet upholstery.

  


The Ex's name is Brad, and the photos hurt more because they remind Adam of what he lost than of what he might lose. Adam tells Kris this at three am on a Sunday morning, he and Adam talking in the dark about nothings that turn somehow into somethings. They both sleep until nearly noon, and lean against each other heavily on the patio the next day, the sun warm on their skin, the slate tiles cold under their bare feet, hair sticking up at all angles.

"Good morning, lazy asses," Allison says when she comes outside and Adam beams up at her, fingers tucked around his mug of hot tea. "You're so cute it's gross."

"Right back at you, kiddo," he says and it makes her giggle.

  


They're not even really watching the TV - it's on in the background as they all sit around chatting, Adam and Kris and Matt in big comfy armchairs, Megan and Lil on the floor doing what look like weird stretching exercises.

"Yoga poses," Megan laughs at him, and Kris shrugs. Matt's still bitching about the downloads theme, even though he's got a great song picked out.

"You've got to stop, man, you're --," Kris starts, but he hears Adam's name and looks up to see Bill O'Reilly's face on Access Hollywood, followed by one of Adam's now-infamous kissing photos.

 _"...still no official word from Adam, but O'Reilly had some choice words for him on a broadcast last week, and now the debate is heating up. Is America ready for a gay American Idol?"_ , the blond says, painfully earnest. Adam is watching too, his mouth set in a grim line. "It's not a big deal, man," Matt says quietly, and Adam forces a smile and flips off the television.

"Yeah, I know," he says, but Kris's face feels hot, his skin prickly even in the air conditioning.

He calls Katy later that night, locked away in the bathroom for privacy. The debate about Adam and his sexuality, the pictures, they're everywhere, she tells him, and Kris has never been more grateful that he's too busy to notice anything outside of the competition. He hopes Adam has been the same kind of busy.

"It just totally _sucks_ ," he says vehemently, and Katy hums at him on the other end of the line.

"People are gonna talk," she reminds him. "He's a story. Some people find him fascinating for all the wrong reasons." She's gentle, but never soft with her words.

"I could be a story," Kris mutters, and Katy's quiet for a long time.

"If that's what you want--," she starts and he huffs, frustrated, and bangs his head back into the door.

"That's not. You know I'm not gonna--," he says, but she cuts him off with a firm "Hey."

"Whatever you need to do," she says. "I love you, you just let me know what the plan is." He loves her so much it's overwhelming sometimes.

"It's okay, there's no plan," he says, deflating. He can hear her sigh.

"Hang in there, okay?" she says. "Give him a hug for me."

Before bed, Kris gives Adam a hug from Katy, and another one just for the hell of it.

  


When it finally happens, Kris isn't actually prepared for it. Maybe because Danny's been so easy for the media to focus on in their desire to set up some sort of epic "light versus darkness" battle for the Idol crown. Kris has laid pretty low for weeks now, but he guesses that "Ain't No Sunshine" must have made an impression somewhere, because people are talking about him as the dark horse, the one to watch. They're also talking about him as the newlywed, the nice guy, the boy who sings in church and goes on missions and would _never_ dress up in a leather bustier and go around kissing boys. Kris is the boy-next-door, and the media has, it seems, put him firmly in Camp Christian, Danny and Mike's camp of "love in a Godly way". He doesn't get any direct questions about it, of course, but he's paying more attention to the blogs now, to the recaps, and he's blown away by how much they've twisted him into someone he's not.

He gets this twisting, aching feeling in his gut when he wonders what they would all say if they knew him like Katy knows him. Like Adam should.

"You know I don't care," he says to Adam one night as they're getting ready for bed, a quiet routine of one-in, one-out of the bathroom, alarms set and PJs on and lights out. "About any of that crap."

"It's okay," Adam says quietly, flicking the switch and crawling under the covers. "You don't have to--,"

"I just," Kris interrupts. "I want you to _know_ , okay?"

"Okay," Adam says, and Kris can hear the smile in his voice. "Kris, I know whose team you're on, here."

And it's such a ridiculous opening that Kris starts to laugh, burying his face in his pillow. "That's not. Wow," he manages. He can see Adam across the room, turned on his side with his head resting on his arm, just watching.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," Adam says wryly.

"No, that's just it," he replies, and it's amazing how hard it is to actually say it. "I just. I _am_. Kind of. On your team." It's not the most graceful way of doing this, but Kris has never been great at talking about feelings and stuff, and especially not under any sort pressure. He's glad for the darkness in the room, the way he can only see vague outlines of Adam - his dark hair, his round jaw. Adam is completely still, save for the steady in-and-out of his breaths. "You can say something now," Kris jokes nervously when Adam doesn't speak.

"Kris, I don't--," Adam starts, and his voice is measured and far away. "What about Katy?"

"I'm not, like, _practicing_ ," Kris says, and that is enough to break whatever spell had fallen over Adam. He giggles so hard he _snorts_ and Kris throws a pillow at him. "You suck so hard."

"Oh, God, do not give me that opening," Adam says, his voice reed-thin and hitching. "You are totally shitting me with this, Kristopher. You are the straightest guy I know."

"I the _marriedest_ guy you know, dude. There is totally a difference." Kris is grinning, but his cheeks are hot, his fingers curled tightly around the edge of his pillow. "I had a boyfriend in college," he says. This is the first time he's told this story in almost five years, and it's jarring how much it still makes his palms sweat. He's not sure what else to say.

"O-okay," Adam prompts gently. "How long?"

"Just a few months of my freshman year. Katy and I broke up after I graduated, mostly just because she was in Conway and I wasn't, and it was a good time to see if there were maybe other people we'd want to... She knew. That I'd thought about guys like that."

"Yeah?" Adam asks.

"Yeah. And we'd seen one too many high school sweethearts in really God-awful marriages," Kris explains. He and Katy were best friends more than anything else, and she was emminantly practical, and he was... curious. "We figured we would test drive being on our own for a while, see how that went."

"And it went the way of you fucking guys at the University of Arkansas?" Adam says, his eyebrows arched.

"No, it wasn't," Kris sighs. "It was one guy. And we mostly just hooked up a lot when my roommate wasn't around."

"What was his name?" Adam asks, and Kris thinks this is much easier when Adam just jumps in, and Kris doesn't have to try to figure out what to say next. It was a long time ago.

"Teddy. Ted. He played soccer."

"Niiice," Adam grins, and Kris laughs. "Did you break up because of Katy?"

"No, we broke up because he came back from Christmas vacation and completely stopped speaking to me." It still hurts in this weird way that Kris can't name. He isn't carrying some torch for Teddy; he never loved Teddy at all, truth be told. But it was a shitty way to spend his January, pretending in a room full of mutual friends that nothing was wrong when your now-ex-for-no-reason boyfriend is chatting with some girl in the corner. "No one ever really knew about us, mostly because our friends were kind of a mixed bag."

"Oh, Jesus, you met him at church, didn't you?" Adam is laughing at him again, and Kris feels the tension in his shoulders release a little.

"Yes, whatever, that is a totally normal place to meet someone," he counters, and Adam hums.

"I always knew those campus crusade people were all totally slutty."

"Oh, obviously," Kris replies. "That's our main recruitment slogan. _Find people who love the Lord, and bang them._ "

"Sign me _up_!" Adam says gleefully. Then, "So he turned out to be more of a closet case than you'd thought?"

"Pretty much. We never really talked at all after that semester, and then Katy and I got back together over Spring Break, and then." He shrugs. "She's totally the one for me, you know?"

"She totally is," Adam smiles, and Kris is intensely _relieved_. He likes girls, and guys, but mostly he likes _Katy_ , and he knows that's a hard concept for some people to grasp. "So, she knows? About Teddy?"

"Oh, yeah. I told her over Christmas, before the brutal silent treatment. It was weird, but she was awesome about it. And then when we broke up, I ended up telling my mom."

"They're the only ones who know?"

"Well, and Charles. He was totally cool about it. But it's not like we talk about it or anything."

"Oh, God forbid," Adam rolls his eyes.

"So."

"Soooo," Adam replies.

"So I'm on your team, Lambert. And if you need me to say so, I can--"

"Oh, whoa, hold on there, tiger," Adam cuts in. "You just _came out_ to me as a _married bisexual_ , and now you want to get all political because you're worried about my _feelings_?"

"It sucks, though, the things they say... the _reasons_ people are voting for me."

"They're voting for you because you're _good_ , Allen. Because you're cute and you can fucking sing, okay?"

"Some of them. Some of them are voting for me because I'm _not you_."

"So?" Adam asks.

"So, that doesn't piss you off?"

"Fine, maybe a little, but that has nothing to do with you, or who you are, or _us_. We're good, man. Don't go making grand gestures you're going to regret."

"I won't regret--"

"If this is such a non-issue for you, why didn't you ever tell your dad?" Adam asks pointedly. Kris sighs in frustration.

"My dad isn't a homophobe," he says. "He just. He wouldn't get it. That I could love Katy, and still sometimes look at a guy and think he's hot."

"Yeah, well, he's not the only one. And it's not just a problem in the straight community either - I've had plenty of bi friends lambasted for not being queer enough. You know who you are, and you're not hiding anything from Katy, and you're awesome enough to even _offer_ this for me, and that's. It's enough. The rest of the world can go fuck themselves," he says and Kris still wants to _do_ something, but Adam's point is well made. He never made much of a deal out of his own sexuality, but he's not naive enough to think that the rest of the world wouldn't push and pull him in all directions until they got him to fit in whatever box they thought he belonged in. "Hey," Adam adds softly. "Why don't we just figure all the people voting for you just because I'm gay will be balanced out by all the people voting for _me_ just because I'm gay."

Kris chuckles. "Okay, deal."

They lay there in the dark for a while, quiet but not sleeping. "I can still hit on you, right?" Adam whispers into the darkness just as Kris feels himself drifting off. "I mean, flirting with you is the high point of my day."

"Sure," Kris mumbles. "But try to hit on my wife sometimes too. She totally has a crush on you."

  


They stopped playing games like "I Never" and "Truth or Dare" early on - having Adam and Allison and Matt all playing was doomed to end poorly, or with Allison asking incredibly embarrassing questions. Or Mike. So they leave the drinking for elimination nights, and no one ever much felt like celebrating then. Tonight is especially bad - Lil and Anoop are both out of the game, and Kris and Adam are quiet. Kris is moving into his own room the next day - with only five of them left, it feels silly to share anymore, but it still kind of sucks. The mansion is still too big for Kris to feel comfortable in, and at least with Adam around all the time, he didn't feel so out of place in it.

"I'm finally going to be able to get some _sleep_ ," Adam says as Kris tosses and turns under his covers. "You're distracting, Allen."

"You're a bathroom hog who sings scales in the shower," Kris snaps back, but without any venom. He hears Adam sigh. "You gonna miss Lil?" he asks quietly a few moments later. Lil and Adam are really close, and the whole house is going to feel empty without her. She's a mom in the best sense of the word - loving and tough and fierce and protective.

"Yeah," Adam breathes. Then, "Glad you're still here, though." Kris feels a warm glow all over. He's glad Adam's still here too.

The next morning there are mild hangovers and a few tears to deal with, and then Kris is leaning back into Adam's chest as the cars pull away. "We'll see them again in a few weeks," Adam says more surely than he feels, based on the way he's gripping Kris's elbow. "Come on, you're helping me with my arrangement and then we're going to watch _Wet Hot American Summer_ on your laptop." Adam plants a warm, wet kiss on Kris's cheek and when he catches Danny watching, Kris just winks.

  


The nail polish thing isn't meant to be a joke. Adam's line about taking a little of each other home with them is cheesy but true - Kris has had Adam to lean on and consult with every step of the last ten weeks, and it's good to be able to look down at his hand and see the polish there. It's grounding. And it's not throwing open his own closet doors, but it's a small statement that he takes totally seriously. Later that week, when they're all back at the mansion racing to get their songs done for that week's show, Kris learns that there are people taking it a little _too_ seriously.

"Oh my God," Adam cackles, head thrown back against his pillow. Kris is looks up from his acoustic, annoyed.

"A little help here, come on," he huffs, and but Adam is totally preoccupied with his iPhone.

"They totally think we're fucking," Adam giggles, the black of his nails a blur as he scrolls quickly down a page of text.

"Who?"

"The internet!" Adam says, eyebrows arched.

"No... who is the 'we'?" Kris asks, but then he thinks about it for a second. "Oh," he adds. "Well, that's ridiculous. You're totally not my type."

Adam stares at him for a long second. "I fucking love you," he says finally, and Kris smiles at him.

"Good. Then you'll help me with this damn song."

  


"Who is your type?" Adam asks over cereal the next morning.

"Not gonna answer that," Kris says, and Adam's eyes get big.

"Why not?" he asks.

"Because you're a dick, and you'll mock me forever," Kris says, and goes back to making notes in his sheet music.

  


Kris gears up for elimination. He's usually all for prayer and the power of positive thinking, but he looks at Adam and Danny and Allison and thinks if he's going to win based on the most fervent prayers, the most intense wishing, he doesn't have a shot in hell. Week after week, though, he does his best, and his best is good enough to stand up to Matt's croon, Allison's growl, and then, most shockingly, Danny's smooth soul.

In the end, they move back to their fancy hotels, this time in suites, one for each of them. Kris gets Katy back almost full time, and Adam gets some Drake time in, and all the parents arrive for the big finale.

The rehearsals are crazy, but nothing is more crazy than the hype - Adam's face is everywhere from magazine covers to ET teasers, everything still trying to make the competition feel competition-y. It's weird to Kris; he hasn't felt like he was competing with Adam for weeks. He and Adam are not even on the same plane, musically, and it's really about the personal taste of the voters, not about talent. He says as much to Katy and she gives him a knowing smirk. "You would vote for Adam, wouldn't you," she says.

"Shut up," he mutters, but he's smiling too. He would totally vote for Adam.

  


An hour after the finale, he's still feels like he's dangling over a ravine without a net. He wasn't supposed to get this far, and he certainly wasn't supposed to _win_ , but suddenly he's got interviews, red carpets, flashbulbs popping so often he's seeing spots. He manages to give Adam a hug on the red carpet, and Adam looks so fucking _happy_ , like he meant all that stuff about just wanting to go as far as he could. More than that, he looks genuinely happy _for Kris_ , which. Of course he is, he's one of Kris's closest friends by now, but it still gives Kris this warm feeling inside, this stupid, happy grin.

Adam grabs Kris and Katy both as they head to their cars. It's well past midnight, but they are all still wired on adrenaline. "Congratulations," Katy says to Adam, hugging him tight around the middle, and Kris thinks she's the coolest person ever. "Both my boys are gonna be famous!"

There are people all around, yelling for cars and bags and keeping a small circle of no-touching around the three of them. Adam looks down at Kris and they have matching smiles - wide and manic and incredulous. "Here we go," Kris says softly and Adam nods.

They're pulled apart a few seconds later, but not before Adam leans down to whisper something in Katy's ear. "Oh, that's easy," she calls with a twinkle in her eyes as they walk to the waiting SUV. "Derek Jeter."

"I fucking knew it!" Adam crows. "Frat boy jocks!"

Kris hates them both, seriously.


End file.
